


unwinding tapes

by influtteringprint



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:05:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/influtteringprint/pseuds/influtteringprint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-earth monarchy abolishment!kai/jinora.</p><p>in which kai listens to the earth, and hears jinora.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

Sundown preys on the afternoon like the most cunning of felines – it creeps in on it, closes in on blistering sunlight until it dulls, the baby blue of the sky dying itself in differing shades of oranges and pinks, reds with tinges of purples. This is when floods of people are awash in the streets, smiles and waves exchanged as another long, gruelling day at work ends and the promise of a relaxing night at home awaits.

The Western Earth President’s days aren’t any different. His shoulders loosen when he takes a look at the wall clock and notes – with a carefully disguised sigh of relief – that his day of trying to forge better bonds with the Keepers of the Spirit Gates is over. Weary bones drag themselves to his quarters, where he dismisses his guards and changes, shedding his stiff presidential attire in favour of something a little less uptight.

He makes his way through the halls of the palace of Omashu, frowning when he notes how still and silent the place is, how it’s so devoid of activity. It hasn’t been this quiet since the place was converted from a royal residence to the man office of the Western Earth Government. It alarms him.

‘Where is he?’ asks the President, when he passes by one of his newer office girls. She bows her head slightly, and he bites back the _I’m not royal, stop doing that_ that’s dangling off the tip of his tongue. His irritation isn’t so well masked this time, though, and when she looks him in the eye again, she flushes.

‘Um – the same place he’s always been. Out by the gazebo, rather perilously close to the edge of it, might I add – um, sir,’ says the girl, and the President nods, smiling slightly. He thanks her, makes his way to the palace grounds, and spots him. His companion, true to the girl’s words, isn’t standing in the gazebo overlooking the cliff that gazes at the setting sun, rather, he’s perched on the railings of it, feet dangling freely, at least five hundred feet away from the ground.

The President sighs.

His companion’s ears prick up.

‘You don’t have to do this every day, you know,’ says the other man, back bending once more into a dejected curve. ‘I’m going to be out here until it’s time for us to move on, you know that,’ he adds, and the President breathes a heavy sigh as he walks towards him.

‘I know,’ he says, a tone of resignation dragging at his words. He doesn’t say anything further, only rests his forearms on the railing right next to his friend, joining him as they stare off into the sunset. They’ve been doing this for a few days now, the airbender and the Earth President, silently staring off into a horizon neither can hope to reach.

 ‘Any news, Dacheng?’ asks the airbender finally, tentatively injecting bits of fake confidence in his words. There’s an undertone of hope lingering in the way he says the President’s name, though, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Dacheng sighs. ‘I’m sorry, Kai,’ he says, turning away from his companion. If there’s anything more painful than watching the hopeful set of his friend’s dark brow fall, it’s having to watch it do so every single day, knowing there isn’t anything he can do to change the way he feels. ‘We tried talking it over, but – ironic as it seems – the airbenders won’t budge.’

Kai turns away, the dull red of the sun reflected in his irises. ‘Tenzin would have a fit,’ he says quietly, face returning to its previous stony expression. ‘ _Airbenders_ refusing to budge – imagine that!’ he says the last few words wryly, and Dacheng drops his gaze.

Kai takes a deep breath, lets the air fill his lungs and pictures a wave of calm flowing into him, just the way it was taught to him. It works, but just barely.

He can’t help but remember the laugh that belonged to his teacher.

Dacheng tilts his head. ‘You really miss her, don’t you?’ he asks, and he doesn’t even try to keep the note of sympathy out of his voice this time. Him and Kai have been friends long enough – they don’t need to wear masks in front of one another. Dacheng knows Kai would never show this side of him to anyone else, and he isn’t about to make his friend feel like he doesn’t care.

He wants to help Kai, really. In any way he can.

And that’s when it comes to him.

He sits up straight.

‘What is it?’ asks Kai, somewhat lazily, and Dacheng almost winces when the tone brings to mind how easily excited and energetic the former was _before_.

‘The Earth remembers,’ mutters Dacheng, eyes widening as he looks at his palms. They’re far from soft, roughened by years of trying to mould his visions into earth, by years of touching the soil and trying his best to _bend_ it. There are wrinkles on them that he’s sure waterbenders and airbenders and firebenders don’t have – but there’s no resentment in his mind when he looks at them. Every little wrinkle is a rivulet of wisdom imparted on him by his master, and right now, he can hear the old man’s voice echoing in his mind, resounding like a shout under the guise of a whisper.

‘What are you talking about?’ asks Kai again, confusion wrinkling his face.

‘My master taught me,’ says Dacheng, rushing off the gazebo and planting both feet firmly on the grass. ‘Fire destroys, right? So by its essence, it can’t retain anything precious – only destroys it, or destroys the things and people that are trying to get to it. Air and water are constantly moving, so it’s harder to pull memories out from them – but the earth, the earth never moves. And it sees all.’

Kai gets to his feet, lets a gust of wind land him lightly on the ground next to his friend. ‘What are you saying?’ he asks, his voice is soft and urgent.

‘What I’m saying is, Kai,’ begins Dacheng slowly, removing his shoes and letting his bare toes curl in the grass – ‘Right now, those airbenders acting as the Keepers of the Spirit Gates – they won’t negotiate the idea of opening them again, no matter how many times the council meets and tries to get them to. And Jinora – she’s been trapped in there for… I mean, I can’t even remember _how_ long – ’

‘Nearly 700 days now,’ says Kai, quietly. Dacheng falls silent, plants a hand on Kai’s shoulder instead.

‘The master I learned how to earthbend from taught me how to dig deep into the soil, so I know how to talk to the earth, not just _use_ it. I can… I can ask it to speak back to me, I’m not just someone who knows how to bend it.’  

Kai’s eyes remain glued to the ground, the power of Dacheng’s words making him feel all the more sensitive to what lies underneath his feet.

‘You know how voices fade, Kai. Like wind – like air. You can carry it around with you for a while, but sooner or later, it’ll get away from you.’ Dacheng lets his hand fall from Kai’s shoulder, holds it out at waist height instead. ‘I can’t bring her back for you, not right now – but I can try giving you something that might tide you over until we figure this whole thing out. Closing the spirit portals, trapping Jinora and those other airbenders in there – that was a mistake. I can’t fix it right away, but – I can try to ease the pain.’

Sincerity shines from Dacheng’s eyes, but Kai can’t help but to hesitate. It’s been over two years since the rebellion that forced the spirit portals to close occurred. Kai still has nightmares about the night it had happened – Korra had been furious, adamant as she was to stop it happening, but it was no use. The team of airbenders and air acolytes that had crossed over to the spirit world to stop any of the rebels from getting through and harming the spirit world didn’t have a chance to escape before a group of rebels – airbenders now calling themselves the Keepers – found a way to force the portal closed at both ends.

And Jinora, Meelo, Pema – Kai hasn’t seen any of them since.

Tenzin can’t even look at him.

He presses his lips together, considers Dacheng’s outstretched hand. They’d met a long time ago, back before Mako had set Kai straight. Dacheng had always tried to show him that what he was doing was wrong. Dacheng was the voice of reason and steadiness that Kai – young, foolish, pre-airbending, pre-Jinora Kai – had resented, causing them to part ways.

Years later they’d reunited, and Dacheng had greeted him as an old friend: with welcoming arms.

Kai knows he wouldn’t do this if he didn’t think it would work.

‘Okay,’ says Kai, so silently Dacheng almost doesn’t hear him. ‘Just – okay,’ he says again, ignoring his friend’s gentle smile as they join hands.

‘The next part should be easy for you airbending types,’ jokes Dacheng, a sense of triumph rising in his chest when he sees the smile that twitches at the corner of Kai’s lips. ‘Just close your eyes and breathe – we can hear the earth better that way. We can use it to see better.’

Kai nods. He rubs at the back of his neck, lets out a quick sigh, and focuses. _Disconnect,_ he tries to tell himself, _let go of all your worldly restrictions_.

‘You ready?’ asks Dacheng, and Kai nods again.

_Disconnect. Let go of all your worldly restrictions._

There’s a sharp intake of breath when he realises it’s not the voice he usually hears in his head that’s telling him these words – it’s Jinora’s. Smooth and calming, like the gentlest of evening breezes. Her voice catches him off guard, but what surprises him most is how he _knows_ it isn’t how her voice sounds like – or sounded like, the last time they’d seen each other.

It’s like the voice was a photograph taken years and years ago – he could still hear the bigger details, the way she’d tilt her words when she was putting on her _airbending master_ face, but the littler bits – he couldn’t hear anymore. It was like her voice was fading at the edges, and Kai tried desperately not to let himself cry at the thought.

It doesn’t work.

‘I’m ready,’ says Kai.

A single tear rolls down his cheek.

He hears Dacheng take a breath.

 _Here we go_ , reverberates in his ears right down to the soles of his very feet, and then it goes truly black, no burnt orange filtering into his vision, no wind carding through his air, no sound, just nothing.

For the first time in his life – all he could hear was the earth.


	2. two

The first sense that comes back to him is the sense of touch.

It startles Kai, when it returns. It’s been years since he discovered his airbending abilities – years since he’d grown accustomed to the mindset of _flowing_ , of dodging and squeezing through the tightest of spaces, to the feeling of complete weightlessness. He isn’t used to the overwhelming sensation that’s hitting him now: the feeling of being tethered, of connecting to something so permanent, so _immoveable_.

He can feel Dacheng’s hands in his, rough but steady skin pressed against his own, but it’s nothing compared to the earth beneath his feet, pressing into the soles of his shoes.

Gravity plays about his toes, and Kai shivers when he finds he can almost _see_ it.  

The next sense that comes back to him is the sense of hearing.

There’s the sound of unoiled wooden wheels creaking along packed dirt paths, there’s the sound of a crowd rushing to gather at the edge of one of the cliffs. Kai recognises this place, even though he’s been to many – this is the place where he first saw _her_.

This is the place where they first met.

‘Do you recognise this place?’ asks Dacheng quietly, and Kai nods. Dacheng drops his hands, and Kai takes in the familiar surroundings. He hadn’t stayed in this town for a very long time, just enough to gain one family’s trust and, subsequently, their life savings, before… Before he met _her_.

The sound of engines whirring and people gasping begin to fill the air. Ripples move in the wind and lifts the hair from about his ears, and Kai finds himself drawn to a particular spot just on the outskirts of the crowd. There are some people there that he recognises and others still that he doesn’t, but when he catches sight of a particular head of brown hair, he stops short.

‘Hey,’ says Dacheng softly, recognition brightening his tone. ‘I’d recognise that scruffy little kid anywhere – what were you doing here?’

Kai’s eyes never leave the back of his younger self’s head. It’s surreal – the earth underneath his feet carries with it feelings he knows belongs to his former self, but there’s also a whirlwind of emotions blowing through the middle of his chest. He should be overwhelmed, he knows, by the double dose of anticipation that’s welling in his stomach, but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t really know _how_ , but there’s a feeling of steadiness that’s foreign but comfortable tingling in his fingertips.

‘Come one, come all, and witness – the amazing airbenders!’ A familiar voice booms across the compound, amplified by a megaphone. More footsteps, more people, more rushing. Kai himself just keeps to where he is, feet planted more firmly on the ground than they have been in years.

He can see Tenzin standing on the steps of the airship, Asami and Korra standing confidently to the side, Bumi with his lopsided grin, and next to him…

Next to him, it’s her. _Jinora._

All around him people begin to _ooh_ and _aah_ as Tenzin bends a ring of air around himself, races past the marvelling crowd in a move that has them captivated.

But Kai’s eyes aren’t on him.

He can hear Bolin’s voice booming out a narrative, can hear Mako’s bored drawl, but none of that matters. This is the first time he’d ever seen her, he thinks, and he feels the weight of the moment so heavy in his mind that he’s sure it’s been cemented there, its weight pressed against the inside of his skull.

Of his heart.

He watches as her small fingers reach for her glider while the crowd gapes and points at Oogi, while they awe at Bumi’s beginner-level skills. She kicks off the ground lightly, but it’s enough. The wind cradles her weight easily, and Kai doesn’t feel it, but a smile grows on his lips when he hears the crowd react.

His eyes instinctively find his younger self. Looking back now, he never knew how small he seemed, but in the crowd he’s almost lost. Something warm floods his chest when he sees his younger self’s mouth drop into a perfect _o_ , just as Jinora lands gracefully on the blunt tip of the village’s fountain.

‘She was a cute kid,’ comments Dacheng, and his voice startles Kai. He’d almost forgotten he wasn’t invisible to _everyone_ here.

‘Yeah,’ he murmurs, eyes still glued to his younger self. The crowd disperses and young Kai rushes forward, looking as though genuinely eager to sharpen his skills, to master the art of airbending.

Kai knows it isn’t the case.

‘I forgot how your voice sounded like when you were a kid,’ jokes Dacheng, and Kai nudges him in the side. Inwardly, of course, he’s cringing – not only is his voice twenty pitches higher than it is now, his airbending technique is nothing short of shameful. His stance is too firm, his footwork too heavy – it’s all he can do not to throw himself on the next air current and rush off. Instead, he steals a glance at Jinora, and a single look is enough – because she’s smiling at him.

There’s a light in her eyes that he doesn’t remember seeing the first time they met, but he _knows_ that light.

It’s the same light that, weeks and months and _years_ after this first encounter, she always had whenever she told him she loved him.

He clears his throat.

‘You know,’ he says, and Dacheng stops laughing. ‘When I first met her, I lied. I lied about who I was and where I came from to her face, to her father, and I tried to steal from her and her family. And I’ve never been able to honestly say I could look back on this day and not feel ashamed of myself.’

The sounds around them seem to dim, as though the earth was trying to help him tune out his surroundings, as though it was trying to help him _see_.

‘Don’t make this about you,’ says Dacheng gently. ‘This is supposed to be about _her_ – if you want to reflect on your past misgivings and wrongdoings, do it at an air temple on your own time. Right now, the earth wants to help you remember. And it wants to help you remember _her_.’

A hand lays itself on Kai’s shoulder, and he closes his eyes.

‘H – Hi, I’m… Jinora.’

This isn’t her voice anymore, he thinks. It’s different from the voice he’s sure he heard the last time he saw her, held her, but there’s comfort in every word this old voice utters, there’s a trace of the voice he misses so much in the voice he’s hearing now.

‘She never doubted me,’ says Kai softly, and a single tear escapes to trail down his cheek. He doesn’t swipe at it, doesn’t push the air around him to get rid of it like he usually would. This time, he just lets it flow, lets it fall off his chin wordlessly.

‘Go on,’ urges Dacheng, and he can feel his old friend take both his hands in his.

‘I gave her every reason to mistrust me, I set off every warning bell in the book – Mako and Tenzin didn’t want to give me a second chance, but she didn’t even consider it. It was always a given to her, that she’d trust me. Even when I’d proven myself unworthy – she did.’

‘You’re doing great,’ Dacheng encourages, and soon all the sound around them was muffled. Soon it was dark again, and all Kai could hear was his companion, and his own voice. ‘What did that mean to you, do you still remember?’

Kai felt the silence around them in his very bones. It resonated from the soles of his feet right up to the tips of his ears, and when the word came to him – it came to him like the smallest of sparks on the darkest of nights. On most days he wouldn’t have paid any mind to it, but today, he felt its power.

He was beginning to remember what she truly meant to him.

‘Hope,’ he says, and the weight of the single word was enough to make him feel as though he’d just let an anchor drop.

He didn’t mind the thought. It was true, after all.

‘She taught me to hope again.’


	3. three

The next time Kai feels his feet reconnect solidly with the ground underneath it, the first sense that returns is smell. There is a faintly familiar stench wafting through the air that fills his lungs, one that’s unpleasant and reminds him distinctly of lost light, of lost souls.

‘Get up,’ a gruff voice to his right has him almost jumping out of his skin, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge at the sound of it. ‘Get _up_ , hurry up. Training begins in half an hour.’

‘What kind of place is this?’ asks Dacheng, his nose wrinkling as he takes in their surroundings. The floor is made of the same dirty green brick that lines the walls, bits of moss growing in the cracks, moisture glistening unpleasantly slick in the gaps. His hands immediately retreat from Kai’s in favour of his pockets, but the move doesn’t elicit any snarky remarks from the airbender. Instead, his expression grows darker, no hint of humour hiding in the sparse lines of his face.

‘This was the Earth Queen’s “training facility”,’ says Kai, but the way he spits out the last couple of words has his companion believing that this place was anything _but_. ‘Right after harmonic convergence happened, airbenders kept cropping up left and right in Ba Sing Se. She was used to taking things that appealed to her. A potential army of airbenders was no exception.’

‘But – I’ve never heard of this place! I’ve been to the central office of the Northern Earth Government plenty of times and I’ve never even seen it before!’ says Dacheng, eyes still wide with bewilderment.  

‘That’s because Tenzin and Korra worked with Prince Wu to have this place destroyed before the monarchy was abolished,’ explains Kai calmly. ‘They didn’t want any future rulers having prisons the general public didn’t know about, and they didn’t want to give _anyone_ the opportunity to exploit innocent people in secret ever again. So before Prince Wu gave up his crown, one of his last orders was to have this place destroyed.’

Dacheng contemplates the words for a bit, turns them over in his head before another thought comes to him. ‘But… It still doesn’t explain why I haven’t heard of this place before. You would think a mass rescue would’ve garnered _some_ publicity.’

‘I said, get _up_!’ came the voice again, more a bark than actual words now, and Kai flinches at the sound. He turns to where the guard is shouting, and sees it: sees himself, not much older than the last vision he saw, stumbling out of a camp bed and standing at attention, facing the guard with bags underneath eyes that were gleaming with determination.

‘Kuvira’s followers were taught that any form of monarchy was evil, counter-productive and deceptive. Prince Wu had just won back favour. Do you really think this kind of publicity would have kept him alive through those years?’ questions Kai. His words are directed at Dacheng, but his eyes are trained on his younger self.

The President goes silent again. He falls into step behind Kai who follows when the guard leaves the room with his younger self.

Hours pass like minutes, Kai finds, when you’re removed from time. In barely any time at all he witnesses his former self throw a weak air punch at his opponent, and, as if his memories had been made into a film projected around him, he sees the same guard come up behind him.

‘Never show mercy! Now attack your opponent, and this time, like you mean it!’ he barks. Younger Kai hesitates for a bit before attacking, knocking his opponent to the ground.

‘Sorry,’ murmurs his former self, head hung low as he watches his opponent tremble on the ground.

‘A soldier never apologises to his enemy,’ says the guard again, dangerously sharp, and the words still strike a chord with Kai. They stir up old emotions – of fear, of loss, of helplessness – and he hates it. He hates the memories he still has of this place and how they affect him, hates them so much that he misses his younger self’s disobedience, his refusal to bow to the Dai Li’s twisted demands.

The next thing he hears is that same string of words that makes his chest burn – ‘Throw him in the hole,’ – and then they’re watching as his younger self is thrown into a room with no windows and no light, no _life_ to speak of.

‘This is when I realised it,’ mutters Kai to himself. Dacheng only manages a quick glance at his friend before flashes of blue light fill the tiny room, and a projection – _Jinora_ – materialises.

‘Jinora?’  
‘It worked!’  
‘How are you here?’

‘Wow,’ murmurs Dacheng, eyes still wide as he watches his young friend speak to Jinora’s spirit. ‘Do they – do _all_ airbenders know how to do that?’ There’s awe in his voice, but it’s mixed in with worry. Kai’s sure he hears his friend mutter something about _security concerns_ , but he’s too caught up in the scene before him to take note of it.

‘She was special,’ he says simply, and he isn’t himself sure if he was referring to her skills, or if he was just talking about _her_ in general.

He knows it’s more likely that it was the latter.

It isn’t long before she disappears again, and the darkness that shrouds them weighs heavy on Kai’s mind.

‘What are you thinking about?’ asks Dacheng, his voice soothing, because that was the whole point of this trip, after all. Helping Kai find peace when his only _real_ source of peace had been taken from him.

‘I wasn’t in this hole for a very long time,’ begins Kai, moving to sit on the bench near his younger self, who was seated cross-legged on the floor. ‘But it felt like forever. I mean – you probably think I’m exaggerating, because I couldn’t have been here for more than a few hours, but… I don’t know. It scared the hell out of me, being in here.’

Dacheng doesn’t say anything. Instead he moves to sit by his companion’s younger self, the one that looks afraid, the one that looks as though he were holding on to a last glimmer of hope, to a last ray of light so fragile it was on the verge of going out.

‘I believe you,’ says Dacheng quietly, taking in the way the younger Kai trembles, how his eyes go wide with fear. Silence blankets them for the next few seconds before Dacheng clears his throat and looks up at his own friend, the Kai from his present, and asks him a question.

‘When we came down here – what did you mean by this was when you _realised_ it?’

Kai’s gaze doesn’t shift from where it’s mooted to the steel insides of the door barring his way to freedom. ‘Leading up to this moment, you know, even though Korra gave me a second chance and Bolin was practically smothering me with his brotherly love or whatever – I knew, deep down, that I still hadn’t changed. The whole reason why I was caught in the first place was because I _gave_ them a reason to catch me, and I was still a thief. I still hadn’t _changed_.’

Dacheng shifts to sit more comfortably, eyes darting between both versions of his friend. It amazes him, slightly, to see how much has changed, this up close – his younger friend was far more carefree than his present one, his younger friend was more impressionable, was afraid where his present companion was hardened, prepared. The younger Kai curls in on himself, leans against the dirty walls without a word.

There are changes that come so gradually you don’t even realise they’re there until they’re staring you in the face – and in the faces of these two very different people, Dacheng understood what it meant to evolve.

‘To change,’ says Kai, his voice bouncing off the narrow walls of the chamber. ‘That’s what I realised. I’d been threatened with jail before, of course – with the amount of stuff I took, it was pretty obvious that they’d want to put me in jail. But the thought of it, versus the actual _feel_ of it…’ Kai shudders, eyes finally flying shut. There’s a commotion just outside the door, several pairs of footsteps heading their way.

‘I knew, in this moment, I never wanted to be here again. I would _never_ put myself in a situation where _anyone_ would think that this – this was the only way to _fix_ me.’

His words are punctuated by a sudden flood of light, the creak of the metal door nearly making Dacheng jump.

‘Come on, we’re getting you out.’

‘Kai!’

They watch as Jinora appears, a halo of light surrounding her. They watch as she pushes past Mako and Bolin, as she approaches Kai, as she throws her arms around him and kisses him on the cheeks. A steady flush rises on the younger Kai’s face, a smile on the older’s.

‘You know,’ muses Kai, leaning back as the visions from his past leave the room, ‘After that day, I’ve always associated her with light. I know it’s cheesy and stuff, but… I was in a dark place. Unloved, uncared for, alone… I did a lot of things most people didn’t approve of, and I did them without any second thoughts. I was just caught in this… In this _cycle_ of doing bad things to see what I could get out of it, and after I met her, after this day – I saw what I was doing for what it really was.’

Kai raises his eyes to meet Dacheng’s, finds a kind of comfort in them that isn’t as strong as the comfort he’s grown used to from a different pair of eyes, but it’s enough. For now, it’s enough.

‘And what was that?’ asks his gentle friend, and Kai feels himself break into a smile.

‘Dark. I was buried in it.’

Dacheng returns his smile. ‘And Jinora?’

‘And Jinora… Was my light.’


	4. four

The sound of his own voice doesn’t startle him anymore.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as soon as his eyes fly open, recognition running cold fingers all down his spine. Dacheng’s brows knit together in concern – they’re somewhere high up, he knows, but he puts it down to being _an airbender thing_. They’re probably at the base of one of the Air temples – Dacheng doesn’t really know.

‘Why are we _here_?’ asks Kai, but it’s a murmur that crawls along the lower tones of his voice, it’s a question that’s only there for the memory to hear; to answer. Dacheng remains silent, watches as Kai’s jaw begins to clench.

‘Why did you bring me here?’ Kai asks, and although Dacheng knows his old friend would _never_ hurt him – it doesn’t stop him from flinching, anyway. It had been a long time since Kai earned his tattoos, after all.

‘I don’t have any say,’ he reminds, gently. ‘The Earth decides what it wants you to see, and I help you see it. It wants you to remember whatever happened on this day for a reason.’ Dacheng pulls his lip between his teeth, bites back the words dangling on the tip of his tongue.

‘But _why_ ,’ says Kai, but this time there isn’t a sliver of anger in his voice, only shreds of brokenness, hints of despair. His voice is a record that’s beginning to skip, and Dacheng reaches out to steady his friend.

‘You know, you’re an incredible airbender.’

‘If you’re responding in this way, Kai…’ Dacheng lets his voice trail off, eyes glazing over with fondness as he looks at the younger version of his friends, aware now, that he misses Jinora too. ‘Then I’m sure you know why the Earth wants you here again.’

Kai’s jaw unclenches.

‘If anyone’s a master, you are.’

‘Smooth talker even way back when, huh?’ jokes Dacheng, nudging at his friend a little, trying to push a smile onto his companion’s lips. Kai smirks a little.

‘Believe me,’ he murmurs, eyes trained on a memory he’d kept so quietly tucked  away he isn’t sure he can even properly remember it – ‘That line got me into a _whole_ lot of trouble with Tenzin.’

The scene unfolds like petals in the morning. There are parts where Dacheng looks over to Kai and catches him smiling – they happen to be the parts where Jinora laughs, or smiles. And it’s incredible, he thinks – watching the first sparks fly between two kids who can’t see what the future holds for them, witnessing the gravity of their smiles, knowing how it’s enough to have kept them together for years.  

When you spend years and years studying the Earth and getting to know it, the permanency of emotions, of human _beings_ becomes less and less significant, but with these two – with Kai and Jinora _then_ , and Kai and Jinora of his time – Dacheng can’t help but smile. The Earth itself is beautiful, the things it nurtures – even more so.

‘This is where it gets rough,’ mutters Kai, brow tensing as the days seem to shift in fast forward, and a new scene lays itself out in front of them, one that’s almost identical to the one before, except that there aren’t any bison around, and there’s something metallic about the look Kai has in his eyes, hands clenched in fists by his sides.

‘What are you talking abou – ’

Dacheng doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before a net catches around Jinora, forcing her body to the ground. Rock shoots up just beyond where they stand, and Dacheng winces at how badly the Earth rattles underneath their feet.

‘I remember being so _confused_ ,’ says Kai, watching intently as his younger self is captured, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene as he and Jinora are hauled off to a truck, thrown none too gently by the back wheels. Kai’s frown deepens.

‘We’ll take them to Ba Sing Se – with the rest of the fresh meat.’

‘Whoa,’ says Dacheng, his gaze shifting from Jinora to the lead poacher. ‘Did he – did he try to _sell_ you?’

‘I wasn’t going to let him get that far,’ says Kai, through gritted teeth. The dejected look in Jinora’s eyes, even after all these years – he remembers all too well how it made him feel.

Fear, despair, desperation – he was familiar with them all, and even though he’s sure he hadn’t fallen in love with Jinora yet at this stage, there was something in him that made him want so _desperately_ to make her feel better.

Something in him that missed her smile, even though it hadn’t left her lips for a full hour, yet.

‘I never had anything of my own before,’ says Kai, body tense as he watches his younger self pick a lock, tries not to let the twinge in his chest show too much when the poachers start the truck and begin to drive off, Jinora calling his name, still in her cage. ‘Nothing that mattered, anyway. You’d know – I stole a whole load of stuff, but that was just… Stuff. Money, clothes, food – things that didn’t… _Matter_. Not in – not in _that_ way.’

His focus shifts from the truck, to the bison flying overhead. When he catches sight of Tenzin, something in him relaxes.  It gives him the strength to continue.

‘Jinora gave me the first real thing that mattered,’ he murmurs, smiling as Tenzin rams Oogie into the side of the truck. ‘She gave me her trust, and she had confidence in me – she gave me a place in her _family_. Those airbenders back there – if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have ever been one of them. Having people finally there on _my_ side, wanting for _me_ to be safe – witnessing that for the first time, it was… Incredible.’

‘You got me – I give up!’

‘I know we were just kids back then, and I’m only realising this _now_ but – she gave me…’ Kai’s words wander until they’re lost, his focus on the way his younger self is full of fury, unforgiving swipes throwing the poacher against his truck.

‘You think you can kidnap Jinora, and all these baby bisons?’  
‘Kai, that’s enough! An airbender never – ’

‘Attacks a defenceless opponent,’ Kai finishes, a wry smile on his lips. There’s satisfaction and something like pride settling in Tenzin’s face, and Kai’s smile grows at the sight of it.

‘That was very good technique.’

‘Thanks, Dad,’ he mutters, muted sorrow in his eyes. Tenzin hasn’t said a word to him in so long, he hadn’t anticipated how much it would hurt listening to him in a memory.

‘The two of you have an amazing bond,’ comments Dacheng, smiling fondly as Jinora is freed. ‘It’s strong enough that the Earth wants to celebrate it.’

‘A whole new world, she opened up, for me,’ says Kai. ‘And we were supposed to see the rest of ours after her expedition – but…’ The words are strung up halfway through, and Kai looks like he doesn’t know where to clip the next peg.

‘You’re just going to have to wait a little bit longer, now,’ Dacheng offers, an encouraging smile on his lips. ‘Just until it’s all over.’

Kai nods, eyes still glued to the faint blush that’s on his cheeks, identical to the dusting of pink across hers.

‘Just until she comes home.’


End file.
